


It's Always Going to be You

by mrandmrhale2



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Has Feelings, Disregards everything after Season 2, Explicit Language, Invisible Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Season 2 was my happy place, the pack is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrandmrhale2/pseuds/mrandmrhale2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck.”</p><p>Stiles stood in front of his bathroom mirror, and stared at the reflection in front of him.</p><p>The reflection of the wall behind him, that is. Without him in front of it. </p><p>Stiles was invisible. </p><p>Fuuuuuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always Going to be You

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous: Stiles is trying new spells and something goes wrong and he turns invisible to all senses, and also intangible. The pack can't find Stiles anywhere and they grow worried every day and don't know what to do. To Stiles' surprise, Derek is the most worried of all,he can't sleep, he's looking EVERYWHERE and Stiles is all the time right there next to him and he just can't believe that Derek actually cares that much about him and in the end the spell wears off and there's lots of kisses and hugs :D

“Fuck.”

Stiles stood in front of his bathroom mirror, and stared at the reflection in front of him.

The reflection of the wall behind him, that is. Without him in front of it.

Stiles was invisible.

_Fuuuuck._

“Okay, it’s okay, I’ll just reverse it,” he muttered to himself, as he jogged back to his room and reached for the spell book he’d ‘borrowed’ from Deaton.

What? It’s not like he used them anymore. Ever since Stiles had learned how to ignite his ‘spark’, the old emissary had left most of the magic to him.

Which, as it turned out, might have been a huge mistake.

He scanned the page with a spell he’d _thought_ was to let you see through a supernatural being’s exterior to easily identify what creature it was.

They’d been having a lot of problems with shapshifters, okay?

But _apparently_ the spell let you literally _see through_ the one who cast it.

Stiles really needed to learn to read directions.

With a muttered curse, he went to flip the page for the reversal spell. Except, he couldn’t flip the page. Because his hand fucking _went through_ the book.

“God damn it!”

He ran a hand through his spikey hair, relieved his new found intangibility didn’t apply to himself. Because even if his family and friends could never actually see him ever again, at least he could still jerk off.

“Stiles!” The Sheriff shouted, and he startled.

“Uh, uh, shit. Um, up here, Dad!” It was okay. It was fine. He would just tell his dad what happened, get him to call Deaton, and Stiles would be nice and solid in time for dinner.

There was a beat of silence, and then his dad called out again, “Stiles?”

“I said I’m up here!”

Finally, he heard his dad mutter something to himself, and then stomp up the stairs.

Stiles’ door opened and the Sheriff peered in with a furrowed brow. “Now where’d you go off to?” he grumbled as he pulled his cell phone.

“Dad, don’t freak out,” he expected his dad to jump out of his skin, to look around in a panic. But the Sheriff didn’t even glance up as he dialed a number into his phone, and held it to his ear. Stiles stepped closer, and raised his voice, “Dad?”

“Yeah, hey, Scott. No, no, everything’s fine. Could you tell Stiles I want him home before dinner? He left his phone at home,” he tapped the screen of Stile’s phone that sat on the desk.

“Shit. You can’t hear me, can you?” He waved a hand in front of his dad’s face, as if that would help.

The Sheriff quirked an eyebrow, “What do you mean? If he’s not with you, where is he?”

Stiles scoffed, “Wow, thanks, Dad.”

“Sure. Thanks, Scott, let me know if he’s with Erica. Okay, bye.”

He gave the room one last look, before heading downstairs. Stiles followed with a loud groan.

“Of course I have to mess with magic on Pizza Night,” he whined when the smell of melted cheese drew him into the kitchen.

He spent longer than he was willing to admit standing in front of the pizza box and pouting.

With a long suffering sigh, he shuffled into the living room where the Sheriff sat with his feet propped up on the coffee table. His eyes were glued to the television, and Stile let out a sharp laugh.

“I fucking _knew_ you watched ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ when no one was home. You sap.”

Stiles suffered through two and a half episodes of wedding dresses and bitchy bridesmaids before the Sheriff’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

He watched as his dad’s face fell. A hand rose to rub at his forehead, and he let out a shaky sigh, “Okay, okay, well… where do we start?”

Stiles chewed on his lip as the Sheriff’s eyes widened.

“Shapeshifters?! And I’m just hearing about this now, McCall?”

He winced in sympathy for his best friend. That was his dad’s full-on-angry-cop voice, and it wasn’t fun to be on the receiving end; Stiles would know.

“But what would these thing want with Stiles? You really think they kidnapped him?”

“No!” He instinctively made a grab for the phone, and cursed when he grasped at nothing, “No, no, _nooo_ Scott. I swear to _God_ if they-”

“I’ll meet you at Hale’s, then.”

_“Fuck.”_

_______________

Stiles didn’t understand what laws of physics this invisible state followed, and he didn’t care, because for some reason he was able to slip into the car before his dad peeled out of the driveway.

His dad looked scared and pale, and guilt ripped at Stiles’ gut.

“I swear, when I get all visible again, I’ll make this up to you,” he whispered, reaching out to comfort him even though he knew it was useless.

They made it to Derek’s loft in record time, mostly thanks to the fact that his dad had taken the cruiser, and his dad was out of the car and inside the building faster than Stiles had ever seen him move.

Stiles barely made it on to the elevator, and had a brief moment of panic as he wondered if he would fall through the floor.

“I’m not quite sure how this invisibility thing works, Pops. I don’t fall through a car seat, but I can’t pick up a book,” he sighed, throwing his head back dramatically, “I think this spell is fucking with me.”

When they got to the loft, the whole pack was already there.

Lydia and Allison were readying weapons, while Isaac and Boyd handed them the ammo. Jackson was leaning against the far wall with Cora as she sharpened her knife. Scott and Derek were bent over a map of the woods, talking strategy.

“Oh, Sheriff, good,” Allison walked over, looking so contradictory in her sundress while holding a M16. She handed him the gun, and gave him a bright smile, “We’ll find him. We’ve been looking for an excuse to get them out of town for weeks.”

“Yeah, that’s great, Ally, except I’m RIGHT HERE,” Stiles shouted, as he pulled at his hair.

“Thanks,” he accepted the gun and she returned to Lydia. Sheriff turned his attention to Scott and Derek, and joined them standing around the table. Stiles followed.

Scott looked determined- his brow drawn together in concentration, and his jaw locked. It was a good contrast to his father, who still looked a bit pale and weak on his feet. Stiles looked to Derek next.

Derek was a _mess._ His hair was stuck up in all different directions, and even as Stiles watched, he reached up to tug at it again. His neck was red from how often he had rubbed it, and his eyes were wide and frantic.

Stiles didn’t remember ever seeing him this spooked. Not even when Jackson got kidnapped by those harpies last month.

Of course, it _was_ Jackson.

“Scott- you, Isaac, and Cora will approach the Shifter Camp head on while Boyd, Erica, and Jackson flank them. Lydia is going to go with you, Sheriff,” Derek pointed at his dad, “after the wolves have them distracted, to look for Stiles. Make sure you check the rocky area to the east. Allison, I want you to find the highest ground you can and pick them off, one by one, got it?”

She nodded, shrugged her bow onto her shoulder, and grabbed Lydia’s hand, “I’ll drive Lyd and the Sheriff.”

“Good, go.”

The three filed out, and Stiles debated following after them, but decided to stay with the wolves.

Jackson pushed off the wall and sauntered towards Erica and Boyd.

“I don’t care who drives, as long as we leave my Porsche out of it.”

Erica rolled her eyes, and gestured to Derek. He immediately fished some keys out of his pocket, and threw them to her.

“I’ll get her back safe,” she assured him with a wink.

“Just get _Stiles_ back safe,” he growled.

“Will do, Boss Man,” Boyd clasped him on the shoulder, and then followed Erica and Jackson out the door.

“This is getting so out of hand,” Stiles whined.

“What about you, Derek?” Scott asked, his voice low so Isaac and Cora couldn’t hear from across the room, “What are you going to do?”

Derek exhaled, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I just… I need a minute. Then I’m heading to Deaton’s.”

“Fucking, finally! _Someone_ is thinking straight,” Stiles cheered, and thrust his fist in the air.

“We’ll find him. Okay?” Scott gave Derek a reassuring smile, and then he left with the others.

Derek stood motionless for a moment, then his eyes flashed red, and with a roar, he swiped all the maps and supplies off of the table.

Stiles jumped back, his mouth falling open in shock.

“Derek, what the hell-”

The alpha growled again, and with a surge, punched a hole into the wall.

Well, _another_ hole, that is.

He braced himself against the wall, and took deep, gulping breaths.

He knew he could be absolutely no comfort for him, but Stiles went to lean next to the werewolf, anyway.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy. I’m totally fine, and when you realize that, you’re going to want to kill me for putting everyone through all this trouble. Just like normal. Okay?” he knew he couldn’t hear him, but was still flooded with relief when Derek opened his eyes, and they were back to hazel. “There you go, Sourwolf.”

Derek turned so his back was against the wall, and as he sunk to the floor, he pulled out his phone.

He hit speed dial, and brought it up to his ear.

“Stiles, I swear to _God_ if you don’t get your ass back here in one piece, I am going to _kill_ you.”

He ended the message, and Stiles laughed, “Really? I thought we were past your homicidal tendencies.”

But Derek called his phone again. And again. Each message got less hostile, and more ardent.

“If you’re not with those Shifters, Stiles, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Why is it _always_ you?”

“God, it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? Damn _human_.”

“You have to get home safe. There’s, _Jesus_ , there’s things you need to know.”

Stiles watched with fascination. He’d never seen Derek- strong, powerful, stubborn, _alpha_ Derek- look so broken down. He itched to just reach out and touch him, and for the millionth time he cursed his own stupidity.

With a sniff, Derek rose to his feet. He dialed one more number, but this time, it was Scott who answered.

“I’m going to swing by the Stilinski house first. No. No, I’ll just run.”

_Oh shit._

__________

Stiles was out of breath and halfway dead by the time he got to his house. Keeping up with a werewolf was actually impossible.

Derek was probably long gone already, but he limped inside just in case.

The stairs up to his room had never been more tiring, but all the sluggishness was sucked from his muscles when he saw that the spellbook was gone.

Derek must have found it! He pumped his fist in the air again, and sprinted to Deaton’s.

The run was shorter to the clinic than the one from Derek’s loft had been, but Stiles was ready to call off all physical exertion EVER by the time he got there.

He slipped inside, and followed the sound of voices and shuffling.

“-should reverse whatever he’s done. Hopefully. If he did the spell correctly.”

“And what are the chances of that?” Derek grumbled, his grumpy face coming into view as Stiles rounded the corner.

Deaton paused, “Well… let’s just see how this goes.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys,” he scoffed. 

Deaton continued crushing up herbs and mixing them with God-knows-what in a bowl, until he finally lit the sage, and began to chant.

_“Qua audieritis attingere, qua audieritis attingere, qua audieritis attingere.”_

Purple sparks flew up from the bowl, and the lights flickered.

Heat flowed through Stiles’ veins, and his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

The lights returned to their steady shine, and everyone held their breath.

Stiles waited a few moments, and then asked, “Did it work?”

Deaton jumped, his hand flying to his chest as his eyes searched the room.

Derek wolfed out, and flattened himself against the wall at the shock.

“Stiles? Is that you?” Deaton asked tentatively.

“Yeah. Ah, shit, can you guys still not see me?”

Derek’s eyes settled in the general direction of Stiles’ voice, and the red bled from them.

“I believe I know what happened,” the vet said, plucking a book from his desk, “I will need a few more herbs in order to make Stiles visible again. Fortunately, I have them at home.”

He gathered a few vials and another spellbook, and headed towards the door.

“Oh, and Stiles?” he called out, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Perhaps, next time you wish to try out a spell, you should come to me first.”

“Uh, yeah. Of course.”

And with that, the vet left.

He and Derek stood in silence for a few seconds, before the alpha spoke.

“Where… where are you now?”

Stiles brushed his fingers along his arm, thrilled that he felt solid muscle underneath them, “Right here, buddy.”

Suddenly, there was a hand in his hair, and he was slammed against the clinic wall. The hand kept his head from banging, but his teeth still rattled a bit.

“Don’t you _ever_ do this again, understand?” His eyes were constantly moving across his face, and Stiles knew it was just because he didn’t know where his eyes were, but that didn’t stop the blush that rose to his cheeks. At least invisibility was good for one thing.

“Derek-”

“You’re lucky I found that book in time to call off the ambush. The pack could have gotten hurt, your _father-_ ”

“I _know_ , Derek! I know.”

The hand in his hair loosened, and Derek huffed, but his whole body relaxed.

“Der,” he gnawed at his lip before saying, “what _things_ do I need to know?”

He froze, his hazel eyes wide.

“Wha-What-”

“At your loft. You said there were some things I needed to know.”

“You were _there_? Stiles, I-”

“Please?”

“I’m not doing this until I can actually see you, damn it,” he growled.

Stiles placed a shaky hand along Derek’s jaw. He startled, but melted into the touch almost immediately.

“C-Can I? Or is it weird, cause you can’t see me?”

Derek swallowed hard, “Definitely weird. You can.”

Stiles smile was wide and instantaneous, but he held it back in order to press his lips against Derek’s.

The werewolf whined in the back of his throat at the hesitant touch, and pressed against him more firmly.

Stiles used his free arm to wrap around Derek’s back, and pull him in closer.

They shared a few more, cautious kisses, before Derek pulled away.

“Stiles, as much as I would like to continue this… it’s really weirding me the fuck out.”

Stiles just laughed, and smiled even harder when he grinned back.

“I guess this wasn’t so bad,” he commented, imagining the disaster that could have occurred if Derek hadn’t bothered to check his house.

“Well, _I’m_ not going to kill you,” Derek’s grin turned wicked, “but your dad might.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “Oh shit.”

 

 

 


End file.
